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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633454">“Dance With Me”</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenMaia/pseuds/ElvenMaia'>ElvenMaia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(in the end), Amon Ereb, Angst, Brothers, Childhood Memories, Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Family Angst, Gen, Grief, Hugs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Memories, Pain, Poor Maedhros, Poor Maglor, Reminiscing, Sad, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, Why am I so melodramatic omg lol, but like not a canonical one, poor feanorians in general tbh, tbh I feel bad writing these tags lol, that time Maglor just broke, was v therapeutic, why do tags always turn into a conversation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:54:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenMaia/pseuds/ElvenMaia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if I told you I was dying?”<br/>There is only so much one can bear. Maglor and Maedhros know this well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maedhros | Maitimo &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>“Dance With Me”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: Wrote This Instead Of Sleeping. (Usually means it's sad and/or wack lol). You have been warned.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maedhros leaned back in the creaking old chair, cracking each of his fingers one by one. His eyes strayed out to the elongated rectangle shape cut into the thick, ungainly stone of Amon Ereb.</p><p>The stars glittered beyond, the eye of the moon peering down over them in steadfast solidarity with the chill of pending snow. Maitimo’s breath still misted, even in the fortress with a torch hovering over the desk.</p><p>He heard a bustle outside and his heart clenched, knowing it must be Kano.</p><p>His heart always clenched when he thought of Kano nowadays. Something had come over him. Maedhros couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse.</p><p>At least, a blessing it appeared; Kano bounded about his duties, his eyes distant and a fond smile on his lips. Maedhros would call his name and Kano’s face would light up like an eager child’s.</p><p>Nelyo marveled at times if he was possessed, for whatever sat in Kano’s mind now was not Nelyo’s brother.</p><p>But thinking of it one night, it struck him. Kano was behaving as he was back when they were children in Aman. The joy and gentle melancholy was misplaced on Kanafinwë’s battle-hardened face for they were all different people than the ones they had left behind in Aman.</p><p>Kano entered now, pushing the squeaking door open by backing into it, a tray balanced on his hand and a ditty bouncing merrily in his throat.</p><p>Nelyo gave him a curious look. Not of disgust, but of gentle musing.</p><p>“Oh! Need to get that fixed,” Kano said, in regards to the squeaking door as he slid free of it and it banged shut with a hideous groan.</p><p>Nelyo hummed in agreement as Kano placed the tray in front of him. It was laden with bowls of a meager evening meal.</p><p>“Hungry, dear brother?” He suddenly laughed to himself. The sound rang uncomfortably in the high, echoing ceiling of the chamber. It seemed that even the eye of the moon flinched.</p><p>“Ai, well of course you are. Always drive poor Ammë mad with your appetite!” Kano chuckled and whisked the linen napkin off the tray. The food was grey and cold.</p><p>Nelyo watched him sadly and stood. He gently grasped Kano’s shoulder felt his cheeks with the backs of his fingers, a furrow beginning to form on his brow.</p><p>Kano stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Nelyo’s heart balked this time; balked in pain.</p><p>Kano spoke breathlessly, as if Nelyo was about to share with him a scandalous secret. “What is it, Nelyo?”</p><p>The furrow deepened. “Are you feeling alright?”</p><p>He chuckled, nervously, and turned away from Nelyo’s touch, instead setting the silverware in order. (Or the wooden-ware, it should be said.)</p><p>“You ask me that every night,” Kano said.</p><p>“I am worried.”</p><p>Kano raised a brow, looking more like the mischievous adolescent he’d been than ever. It was all so horribly misplaced beneath the thin scars trailing in the crevices of his form as if trying to become unseen; one stretching from the little hollow of his ear to the underside of his chin, and the other trailing across his brow.</p><p>Kano brushed the wayward hair from his face and sighed, then gave Nelyo an almost forced smile.</p><p>“Eat. And don’t tell me you’re not hungry.”</p><p>“I’ve already eaten.”</p><p>Kano frowned, disappointed. Nelyo was almost tempted to sit down and swallow it anyway, just to make him happy.</p><p>It was ridiculous.</p><p>Nelyo pursed his lips and sat down to please him, deciding this had gone on long enough. It was rare, however, for Nelyafinwë to ever express such raw concern. Kano always had a way of nursing that hard shell away from him, so it always fell away in his presence. (Not always.)</p><p>Nelyo cleared his throat, about to tether his worries to their duties as lords—“Kano, you’ve been acting strangely, and I—“</p><p>But Kano's eyes were far away again, the lines around his mouth soft and lightly agape. He stared out of the narrow window high above, oblivious to the judging scrutiny of the moon. The stars were reflected in his pupil.</p><p>“Do you remember, Nelyo... back in Aman...”</p><p>Nelyo muffled a groan.</p><p>Kano paused to emit a breathy chuckle, still staring wide-eyed as if the stars were an arm’s-length away and not so cold and distant. Did he not know stars burned?</p><p>(He knew. He knew this very well.)</p><p>“The good times... when it was just the two of us...</p><p>“Not that is wasn’t good with the rest, but... there was something special there. With just you and I.</p><p>“You would drag me to come outside after I spent days composing some nonsense or other... And we would go to that grassy knoll, remember?”</p><p>He laughed, interrupting himself. Nelyo listened, staring down at his hand in his lap, fiddling with the scar tissue enveloping his stump. His chest ached. He almost regretted letting down his stony guard for this nonsense.</p><p>But he couldn’t. Grief did many things to a person, and this was perhaps the most grievous of all; to live trapped in a cage with no choice but to put a silver lining.</p><p>“I’d been in love them, remember? My foolish, young self. I really thought I could impress her.”</p><p>He shook his head and smiled, twirling the simple wedding band on his finger. Never once had he taken it off.</p><p>Nelyo looked away; anywhere but the patch of stars through the window, the substance in the bowls before him they had the gall to call food, his delusional brother staring dumbfounded at the sky.</p><p>There was wonder in his eyes, but beneath swirled chaos held at bay.</p><p>(Beneath lay a smoking plain, too ugly to be left unconcealed.)</p><p>“I begged you teach me to dance... though I doubt you hardly knew yourself. What a hardy pair of fools we were, then,” he said. Something in his voice said he would have preferred to remain that ‘hardy fool’ instead of this.</p><p>(Anything. Anything but this.)</p><p>Nelyo put the tray to the side and smoothed out the maps he’d been pouring over with a faint rustle—plans to storm the Havens of Sirion like the ruthless animals they were.</p><p>Red ink smeared over his palm. It didn’t look like blood. Not to him.</p><p>(Blood burned. He would know.)</p><p>Looking back up to Kano, his eyes still fixed above, his mouth slightly agape but no longer smiling, it was difficult to believe that this was an ellon who’d killed—soldiers, woman, children—(did it matter anymore?) without batting an eyelid.</p><p>(How little they knew. How little they all knew.)</p><p>“Dance with me, Nelyo...” Kano said suddenly.</p><p>Nelyo sighed and pursed his lips, gesturing formally to the maps laid out on the desk.</p><p>“You know I can’t...I have a fortress to run.”</p><p>“<em>We</em> have a fortress to run. And the fortress can wait a couple minutes.”</p><p>“Kano—“</p><p>His head cocked to the side, imploringly, sadly, almost reminiscent. Nelyo’s eyes remained trained on his fingers fiddling with an unraveling weave in his threadbare tunic.</p><p>“What if I told you I was dying?”</p><p>Horror and despair engulfed Nelyo as the words drove a spike through his heart. His wide eyes said it all. His chest heaved and breath hitched.</p><p>“Kano—“ His voice cracked so he tried again and scowled. What a cruel game he was playing. “Do not make fun.”</p><p>Kano’s head tilted to the side. Those eyes reflected the grimness of the moon’s sharp light now. Nelyo wished he would look at the blasted stars instead of him.</p><p>Kano's softly reproachful disposition answered his silent question.</p><p>“What can I—“ A deep breath. He tried again. “What can I do to alleviate your grief?”</p><p>(There was only so much a Firstborn could bear before they faded, a sad smile frozen on their face. Much like Kano’s now.)</p><p>Nelyo’s heart stuttered under the strain of that mere thought. <em>Alone</em>.</p><p>That same sad smile. Kano extended his hand, poised and graceful like a glass figure too delicate to handle. Nelyo’s large scarred hand enveloped his.</p><p>A fond quirk of Kano’s mouth. The moons in his eyes were a gentle melancholy now, as if concealing a raucous laugh in the face of his defeat. (But was it truly defeat? Death was the closest form of peace there was to offer...)</p><p>He’d accepted his fate.</p><p>“Dance with me...”</p><p>They danced.</p><p>The torch burned low.</p><p>The moon sank and so did they; sank to the ground in a huddled heap.</p><p>Kano was sobbing. The chaos in his eyes was escaping and Nelyo could do nothing but hold him and promise he would find him. Someday.</p><p>oOoOoOo</p>
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